Coming Clean
by myownreality
Summary: Ron and Harry have a talk about a certain bushyhaired friend of theirs


Disclaimer: all HP related stuff belongs to JKR. Ideas and dialogue are mine.

Coming Clean

"Hey Ron?" a green-eyed boy asked his companion.

"Yea?" the red-head answered.

"What do you think of Hermione?"

The red-head started. "What do mean what do I think of her? I think of her the same way I always have, like our best friend."

"I mean what do you think of her as a girl? She is one, you know."

"Yes, I know that, thanks. I dunno. How do you think of her?"

"Well, she's smart. And nice."

"Obviously."

"She's pretty attractive."

The red-head started again. "You think she's pretty?"

"Sure, don't you?"

"Well, of course…I mean…yea I guess."

"And her hair…"

"What about it?"

"Do you like it?"

"It's hair."

"But it's so bushy."

"So? It wouldn't be her hair if it wasn't bushy."

"I know. I never said that was bad. I like it. It's kind of wild. Like it has a mind of its own. I like the curls. It'd probably be fun to pull one. Just to watch it bounce back." His friend was staring at him incredulously. "It's almost…"

"Almost what?"

"I dunno, kinda appealing."

"Appealing?"

"Yea, like makes you want to run your fingers through it. Try to tame it I guess."

The red-head just stared. "Oh."

No one said anything as they drifted into a silence, uneasy on the red-head's behalf. The green-eyed boy pretended to read a magazine, while silently celebrating the fact that he was sure he had finally done something to get his friend to admit his feelings for the very girl they had been discussing. It wasn't as if he didn't know. He was best friends with both of them. He saw the secret glances and tell-tale blush. But neither of them would ever admit to anything. So he had taken it upon himself to get things going. After a few minutes the red-head spoke up.

"Hey Harry?"

"Hm?"

"You don't like Hermione, do you?"

"'Course I do, she is our best friend, after all. It'd be rather rude to not like her."

"No, I mean do you _like_ her?"

"Oh, I see. Why?"

"No reason. I was just wondering ."

"Do you like her?"

"Me? No, of course not. I mean, she's Hermione for heaven's sake."

"So if I did, you wouldn't mind?"

"No."

"And if I decided to ask her out, you would be alright with that?"

The red-head was growing increasingly distressed with every question "Sure."

"Alright."

"So does that mean you're going to?"

"I dunno. Probably."

They settled into silence again, this one more uneasy than the last. Once again, the green-eyed boy was congratulating himself. It was obvious that his friend was not at all pleased with the prospect of himself dating Hermione. He had no real intentions to do anything of the sort. She was like a sister to him. And it was his brotherly duty to make sure she was happy. Which meant he had to convince Ron to ask her out. But Ron didn't know that. He noticed that his friend couldn't stop fidgeting.

"Ron?"

"What?"

"Is something wrong with you?"

"No. What would make you ask that?"

"Well, you're fidgeting. You only fidget when something's bothering you. So what is it?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Why else would I have asked?"

"I don't exactly know how to tell you."

"Well, if I were you, I'd use my mouth and make words."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"Seriously, though. Just say it already."

"IlikeHermionetoo."

"What?"

"I said that I like Hermione, too."

"No! I would have never guessed."

"Why are you laughing? I don't see anything funny about this. We both like Hermione, and it's obvious which one of us she'll pick."

"And that would be?"

"You of course. Why are you still laughing?"

"Because you're such a thick-headed git."

"And why is that?"

"Why on earth do you think she would choose me?"

"Because you're _Harry Potter. _You're famous and rich and a great Quidditch player and good-looking and all the rest of the girls fancy you. Why would she choose me over you? Why would anyone choose me over you?"

"Oh, honestly. Do you think she really cares about all of that stuff? She's deeper than that. Hermione isn't all the rest of the girls. Besides, I know for a fact it's not me she fancies."

"It's not?"

"Nope."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Who is it?"

"You."

"Very funny."

"I'm serious."

"She told you this?"

"Sure. Maybe not in so many words." _Or in any at all…_

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why does she like me?"

"Well how am I supposed to know that?"

"It's kind of scary."

"Hermione?"

"Yea. I mean she's just so…Hermione. And I'm so Ron."

"Well, I'm glad we got that cleared up."

"Now, you're sure about this?"

"Positive."

"Okay."

"Okay? That's it? You don't plan on doing anything about it?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe like asking her out."

"Oh, yes. That would go well. I can picture it now."

"I'm sure the delivery wouldn't matter. She'd just be ecstatic about the package."

"Maybe. Or I could screw up and she'd get mad and yell at me and hate me for the rest of forever. It's a possibility."

"Well, that's not gonna happen so do it already. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yea. I mean if you're sure then what have I got to lose…except my dignity?"

"Finally!"

"Wait a minute."

"What?"

"Why are you trying to convince me to ask her out? I thought you were gonna ask her out."

"Nope."

"But you said you were."

"The thought never crossed my mind."

"Then why did you say you were?"

"I had to get you to come clean somehow."


End file.
